The Book of Wonders Read Free Page B

his whole life.

3
The Impatient Seed
    Z ardi pushed open the door of the kitchen, her toes curling in pleasure as she breathed in the scent of baking bread.
    â€œSmells good in here,” Zardi said, spotting her grandmother over by the hearth.
    â€œI’m glad you approve,” Nonna replied, turning away from the two cauldrons that sat over the fire. Wispy gray tendrils stuck to her forehead and her cheeks were flushed. “I’m just about to start the soup. Did you get the sesame seeds for the tahini?”
    â€œI got everything but the pomegranates.” Zardi tumbled the contents of her sack onto the kitchen table.
    â€œNo matter, my dear,” her grandmother said. “Maybe your sister will be able to get them. Where’s Rhidan?”
    Good question , Zardi thought to herself. “He had some things he needed to do,” she said. “He’ll be along later.”
    Rhidan had been strangely calm once they had gotten off the sultan’s arch. They had been lucky that no one had seen them from one of the many watchtowers of the city, and they were quick to leave the widow reaper far behind. Rhidan had told her to finish running the errands for Nonna and promised he would catch up with her at home. When she’d asked what he was planning to do, he’d replied that he was going to find Sinbad.
    â€œSomeone’s bound to know where he’s heading next,” he had gone on to explain. “Sinbad’s not exactly the shy and retiring type. All I need to do is a bit of investigating.”
    â€œWell, he had better not be late,” Nonna muttered, interrupting Zardi’s thoughts. “I’m making chorba soup tonight, and I don’t want its flavor to dull from overcooking.”
    â€œYou know that’s Rhidan’s favorite,” Zardi replied. “His nose will lead him home.”
    Nonna chuckled, walked over to the table, and started to sort through the ingredients. Zardi watched her grandmother fondly. She was a round woman with a face well worn from smiling and laughing. In other wealthy families, it was unheard of to have a member of the family doing the cooking, but her grandmother didn’t give two hoots about status or what other people thought.
    Zardi grinned to herself, remembering all the cooks her father had tried to employ in the past. Somehow, Nonna always managed to drive them away. Putting dead mice in their stews or adding too much salt to dishes while they weren’t looking were her favorite methods, but she had a whole range of pranks in her armory. Unsurprisingly, Nonna’s views on nannies were very similar to her opinions on cooks, and her methods of expulsion equally ingenious.
    The door swung open, and Zardi turned to see Zubeyda skip into the kitchen. Her sister’s name meant “little butter ball” and she was exactly that—soft and round with skin as smooth as buttermilk. Zubeyda’s heart-shaped face was glowing, and she brought the smell of lavender and excitement.
    â€œNonna, isn’t it a glorious day?” Zubeyda greeted her grandmother with three kisses on alternate cheeks. She turned to face Zardi with a grin. “Hello, birthday girl. Thirteen years old today—you’re practically ancient.”
    Nonna laughed at this and bustled over to the hearth at the far end of the kitchen to begin adding ingredients to the soup.
    â€œYou’re four years older than me, Zub,” Zardi pointed out to her sister.
    â€œBut never too old to enjoy sherbet. I’m going to make some. Watermelon and mint flavor suit you?”
    Zardi’s mouth watered. She loved the fruity iciness of sherbet. “That sounds perfect.”
    â€œWonderful. Maybe O—” Zubeyda stopped, her long lashes becoming a fan on her suddenly blushing cheeks.
    â€œZub, why have you gone pink?” Zardi asked suspiciously. “What’s going on?”
    Her sister smiled shyly. “Well,